All That Was Needed
by Sela McGrane
Summary: The serene atmosphere of this perfectly ordered room was suddenly interrupted by its owner's return, and if the room had a mind to think with, it would have been a bit distressed to see the woman it called its own bursting through the door, lip locked with a student that it was decidedly familiar with.
**Just a oneshot... though I predict pleas to continue. That said, it does stand alone, and ontop of being behind on an update for Telling Time, I've also got another oneshot I've been working on. Enjoy!**

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The room was in pristine order, much like the owner of this particular local. A fireplace crackled on one side of the room, giving indication that it was after suppertime at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the House Elves had already begun to make the rounds, ensuring that every room in the castle would be kept warm against the cool weather so typical of Scotland. The stone floor was generously covered and various plush throw rugs, each smelling deeply of burning firewood and ginger, given the occupant of these living quarters propensity to eat cookies of that sort.

Twin loveseats sat in front of the fireplace, offering a view of the roaring flames each evening, as well as a look at the row of bookshelves that lined the adjoining wall, which were packed with books of all sorts, wizarding and muggle alike. The owner of the room and the books was not the sort of have much in the way of knickknacks, though a few photographs were littered about the mantle and the few bits of shelf that were not totally covered with the assortment of tomes. A small writing desk sat in front of the shelves, the roll top sort that made one wonder if the writing surface was as orderly as the rest of the room, or if there was some evidence of clutter under there.

The opposite wall to the fireplace boasted of a beautiful, king sized canopy bed. It was a dark wood, with scrollwork and spirals that creaked just a bit when you sat on the thick mattress, betraying the piece's antiquity. The mattress was decorated with white silk sheets, though you could not see them in the bed's present, made state. For now, the bed was covered with a spread of reds and gold; the perfect colors for the Gryffindor Head of House.

The final wall in the large room was bare save for a coat rack, a large wardrobe, and the door that led to this well put together sanctuary. Anyone standing in this room would never guess that just outside that door was a hallway littered with debris, and beyond that, a castle that claimed ownership to many other rooms, few of which had been left unscathed by the battle which had raged only hours before. _The Battle of Hogwarts_ , it would be called by history. To those who had just fought it, it was only thought of as the end of the struggle for their lives. For some, that end had been death, but for others, it meant that finally, after all those years, they could begin to live.

BANG!

The serene atmosphere of this perfectly ordered room was suddenly interrupted by its owner's return, and if the room had a mind to think with, it would have been a bit distressed to see the woman it called its own bursting through the door, lip locked with a student that it was decidedly familiar with.

"Minerva," the student – the _female_ student – moaned her professor's name as if her life depended on acknowledgement. "Please…"

"This is…" Minerva McGonagall said, kissing the girl. "…mad."

"Don't stop…" the girl pleaded as the Transfiguration Professor pushed her against the now closed door. "Please don't ever stop…"

"I don't know what's gotten into me," Minerva whimpered as her lips slid down her companion's neck, pulling away a jacket, and then making short work of the buttons on the younger woman's shirt. "Gods, Hermione…"

Hermione Granger was breathing heavily, kneading her fingers through long locks of ebony hair that had, in the chaos of the battle now behind them, come undone from its customary bun. Minerva's lips pressed into her chest, deeply inhaling the scent of her lace covered breasts. The older woman's hands continued to work steadily at undressing the younger body. Minerva stood upright again, shaking Hermione's fingers out of her hair, and pushing her shirt off her slender arms.

The younger woman grabbed the front of her professor's robes and pulled forward, pivoting her feet and allowing momentum to put Minerva's back against the empty wall beside the door. Sharp, brown eyes quickly located the clasps to the emerald overcoat. They were undone in seconds, and from there, Hermione eyed a body she'd only ever dreamed about. Generous breasts heaved under a white blouse, one of which the younger woman cupped firmly before moving her mouth to Minerva's very exposed, long neck, and biting down roughly.

Minerva hissed, pulling Hermione into a tight embrace for a moment. As the younger witch began to gently kiss the pain of the bite away, Minerva unbuttoned her jeans and slid her hands under the thick fabric, cupping the other woman's firm arse, skin on skin. Hermione's arms tightened around Minerva's neck, pulling herself toward a kiss. As lips met, Minerva gripped a bit lower under Hermione's jeans, and lifted the smaller woman up, turning again as she did so, allowing the wall to support some of the weight.

Hermione squeaked in surprise as her warm skin hit the cool stone wall, but any protest never made it further than that, as Minerva began to thrust her hips forward, putting pressure on the younger Gryffindor's core of the most pleasurable sort. "Gods…" she uttered, relaxing her grip on Minerva's neck. "That feels so good."

"We should not…" the older witch muttered suddenly, pausing in her movements. "…be doing this."

She eased Hermione down until the girl was safely standing on her own two feet, before turning and walking away, toward the center of the room. She did not seem to know where to go, or what to do, just that she should not be touching her student like she had just been.

Hermione watched her mentor carefully, silent as the older woman paced the room for nearly a minute before sitting on the edge of her bed, steadily refusing to make eye contact with the younger woman she'd brought here. Taking a deep breath, Hermione slowly stepped toward where Minerva was sitting, until finally, she was close enough to touch. Her mentor made no move, no sound, nor did she utter protest when Hermione kneeled in front of her and gently lifted the light, cotton skirt upward. She gently caressed the long, muscular legs, higher and higher until her fingers and eyes found the older woman's knickers. Finally, she looked up, and was pleasing to see that Minerva was watching her, and once more, they made eye contact.

Eye contact was how this whole thing had begun. They'd been on opposite side of the Great Hall, both apparently watching as many friends, families, and lovers shared embraces and kisses, thankful to have not lost each other that night. Like Hermione, Minerva had no family here at Hogwarts, and like Minerva's, Hermione's friends were occupied with other things. So, there they had each stood, alone, until they'd made eye contact and slowly but surely drifted toward each other. They'd met in the middle, offered words of thankfulness that each of them was unharmed, and then agreed to go try and find a cup of tea.

They never did get to that tea. As they'd rounded a corner on route to the kitchen, Peeves had come flying around them, startling Hermione to the point where she'd leapt into the protective arms of her mentor. Then, he was gone and they were alone and both remarkably comfortable in each other's embrace. Eye contact was made again, and suddenly they'd both found themselves leaning into a kiss that neither had planned nor expected, though for Hermione, she'd long ago accepted her attraction to her mentor. She just never thought anything would come of it. For Minerva, the notion of being with Hermione in such a personal manner was a very new – moments, really – desire, and so Hermione wasn't all that surprised at her hesitation. That said, she had always been the sort to finish what she started, and this was no different.

"Lay down," the younger woman commanded. Hermione hoped that this show of power would offer Minerva some measure of assurance that they could be equals. She'd never thought Minerva would be the type for one night stands, nor was she, and so despite the rush in what they were doing right now, she knew that if they went through with it, it would mean more than just sex. How much more, she couldn't be sure at this point, but Hermione knew that this evening would change things between them.

With a shaky breath, Minerva eased herself down onto the soft bed, and as she scooted back toward the pillow covered head, Hermione's fingers pulled her skirt off, tossing it on the floor with a subtle thud. In state of dress, they were opposites now; Minerva with nothing but a blouse and underwear covering her body, and Hermione with nothing but a bra and unbuttoned jeans. Slowly, Hermione crawled onto the bed, and lowered her body on top of the older woman.

"What's happening here?" Minerva asked, her hands running over the smooth skin of the young woman on top of her. "If this is just about comfort for you…"

"You know me better than that," Hermione said softly.

"Perhaps, but what do you really know of me?" the older woman pushed. "You cannot tell me this is about…"

"Love?"

Minerva nodded.

"I won't claim to know enough about you to call what I feel _love_ ," Hermione conceded. "But I know what makes you smile, I know what makes you cry. I know each and every expression on your face, and I know how deeply you care for people when you let yourself go there. Thereby, I know that if we are here, now, like this, you feel _something_ for me, just as I feel _something_ for you. Perhaps, in part, right now is about comfort, but it's not blindly taken or given. I think that whatever is between us would have eventually led here in any case. If you're not ready, all you need to do is say so, but I do want to explore what's between us. Going to bed with you tonight or not, I want that. I want _you_."

The older witch pulled Hermione into a gentle kiss in response, as if to say she understood and agreed with what the woman on top of her was saying. Despite the thoughts running through her head at the moment, Minerva knew that all that needed to be said, for now, had been said. The rest could be addressed tomorrow. Tonight, they had each other, and that was all that was needed.

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